


Take One For The Team

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fanart, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 02:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13917048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: A sequel of sorts to Less Is More, inspired by art gifted to me on tumblr.Madara wins a contest and receives a prize, complete with delightful wrappings.





	Take One For The Team

**Author's Note:**

> For more amazing art [and another crop top Tobi ;)] go peek at [@inconveniencednuetrons ](https://inconveniencedneutrons.tumblr.com/post/171669122407/anyone-need-a-cheerleader-another-step-in) on tumblr!

Madara made it three steps in the house before coming to a halt as the door swung shut behind him and dropping his forehead against the closest wall, eyes falling closed and what little air was left in his lungs draining out in one great rush. What a day. One of those days when he very seriously contemplated the murder of his own best friend, motive to be noted as ‘overwhelming stupidity which can no longer be borne’.

He wasn’t entirely sure where Hashirama had gotten the idea for a tournament between willing members from the different clans. There had been some sort of drivel about promoting a healthier attitude towards competition between the clans as well as something about a safer outlet for the energy they were all used to putting in to fighting over territory and clan pride – but Madara knew better than to believe all that. Every instinct in his body was convinced that Hashirama had conceived of this plan mainly as a way to draw Tobirama out on to the practice fields once more with two purposes: firstly in the hopes that his brother would show up in that ridiculous crop top again and secondly so that he might have all the amusement of seeing Madara’s reaction this time since he had missed it initially.

All his plans turned out to be for naught, however, as Tobirama failed to even show his face all day. The tournament had been even larger than Madara feared it would be and despite not taking part in most of the preliminary fights, he was still exhausted to have gone through the sheer amount of exercise that he had. By the final rounds it had been more a test of endurance than skill but he was still proud to have come out the victor.

First place always felt good, there was no denying that.

The only thing dimming his enjoyment of the day, the thing which stopped him from floating in to his home with head up high on the wings of success, was the lack of Tobirama’s presence. As much as he would never admit to it, he’d been rather looking forward to showing off a bit while Tobirama looked on. The man hadn’t exactly been subtle about his recent hints that the two of them might have a chance to become _the two of them._ An opportunity to display his skills had seemed like the perfect chance to flirt back a little – which was decidedly hard to do if the person he wished to impress chose not to be there.

Perhaps taking out his frustration for the matter on his opponents that day hadn’t been the most sportsmanlike action. It certainly hadn’t done much other than exhaust him even more than would have been strictly necessary. But Madara couldn’t bring himself to regret the way he had conducted himself. Maybe being this tired would help him get to sleep quicker than usual and if he was lucky he could skip right to the steamy dreams of a certain someone which had been plaguing his nights of late.

Straightening up with a slight groan, Madara set his sights on the end of the hallway and forced his heavy feet to pick themselves up, heading towards the bedroom where a nice soft bed awaited to catch his tired form. Dinner never even occurred to him. All he wanted was to change out of his sweaty training clothes and cover himself with the new fur blanket Izuna had given him as a gift. He was certain that it was mostly meant to be a gag gift, the intention being to tease him about his ever-growing crush on Tobirama, but the joke was on Izuna because Madara adored that blanket more than words could say. It was warm, comfortable, and alright yes it did in fact feel as though he were drifting off to sleep with his face burrowed in the furry ruff strapped to the collar of Tobirama’s armor.

With his thoughts taken up mostly by innocent things like sleep Madara was completely broadsided to open his bedroom door and discover a sight which could in no way be described as innocent.

“I’m sure you’ll forgive my absence today,” Tobirama drawled from where he had spread himself out on top of the fur blanket. “I thought it might cause a little upset if I were to be so obvious about who I was…rooting for in the tournament.”

“Hnnggg!?” In the back of his mind Madara was glad that he hadn’t been holding anything as he surely would have dropped it at the sight before him. Tobirama bent one leg and lifted an arm to drape his wrist over the knee, fingers clasped around the handle of a small uchihwa fan patterned in the colors of the Uchiha clan.

“Do you like my new shirt? I had it specially made just for the occasion. The rest of the outfit is a traditional uniform worn by certain athletes in one of the lands to the west. They’re meant to be motivational, as I understand it.”

Madara had to admit, he certainly would have been motivated if Tobirama had been cheering for him on the sidelines wearing _that_ ; maybe not motivated to fight but definitely motivated to do something.

If it had only been the shirt his mouth would have immediately run dry just the same. Still emblazoned with the same two words that his first had been, this crop top was even shorter and it was done in the same red and white as the rest of his outfit. His shoulders were bare but his arms were covered by sleeves that reached from wrist to halfway up his bicep and appeared to serve no functional purpose. His feet were clad in white stockings which ended in red lace around mid-thigh. Madara would have called that the most risqué part of the ensemble if not for the extremely tiny skirt of soft looking pleats which had been deliberately arranged in such a manner that it only just barely covered some interesting bits of anatomy.

  


Swallowing, clearing his throat, and humming three times as he searched for words, Madara still found that he had nothing more in his head at the moment than a few visual scenarios which all included red and white fabric.

“I do hope you’ve got the point, Uchiha, otherwise we’re both wasting a lot of time sitting here looking stupid.”

“You do _not_ look stupid,” Madara breathed, his eyes tracing the white pleats and the flashes of red peeking out from between them.

“Oh? How do I look then?”

Even though his words were anything but innocent, Tobirama still managed to sound genuinely curious as though he hadn’t the faintest idea what he was doing to the man who was all but devouring him with heated gazes. Madara breathed harshly through his nose and dared to take a single step forward, fingers twitching with the desire to touch all that pale skin currently on display. All for him. Just for him.

“You look delicious,” he said in a voice as raw as his honestly. A flash of surprise crossed Tobirama’s face before his lips tilted up in a smirk.

“Would you like a taste?”

No second invitation was needed. Wondering if hadn’t fallen asleep in the hallway and already started dreaming, Madara nearly launched himself at the bed. All signs of exhaustion fell away as he landed one knee in the thick fur between Tobirama’s legs, slammed one hand down beside Tobirama’s smug little face, and used the other to wind in to his hair and pull him up for as fiery of a kiss as he could manage. Judging by the deep groan he earned in response, Madara thought he’d manage the kiss just fine.

Unable to stop himself after so long of looking but not being allowed to touch, Madara pressed the full weight of his body down on top of Tobirama to enjoy the way they molded together. Fingers gripped bracingly at his hips for a moment before slipping underneath his loose shirt and it took a bit before he gathered the strength to pull away so that it could be torn off over his head. Then he was leaning back down for another kiss and with his chest bare he could feel so much more of the man squirming underneath him.

“Shall I assume you won today, then?” Tobirama asked between kisses, breathless in such a beautiful way.

“Won? Oh, the tournament.” Madara dropped his head to suck at the tendons of Tobirama’s neck. “Don’t be insulting; of course I did.”

“Then I think you’ve earned a reward. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“ _Gods_ yes!”

With a wicked smile Tobirama rolled his hips. “Then go on and take it,” he rumbled.

Madara shuddered as he released Tobirama’s hair, using that hand to reach down and slide it back up the outside of Tobirama’s leg, delighting in the transition from silky stocking to warm skin. He didn’t bother to slow or stop as his fingers slid underneath the material of the pleated skirt – and then a helpless whimper escaped him when he discovered that Tobirama was wearing nothing underneath.

“Filthy little boy toy,” he whispered. Tobirama gasped as he bit down on the neck he was still enthusiastically marking.

“And yours for the playing with.”

Another shiver wracked him. Madara only just barely held in the words, but he very much hoped that this new toy was also his for the keeping. Emotions could come later, however; right now his cock was running the show more than his heart and it seemed the situation was much the same for Tobirama.

With just one flick the skirt was out of the way and he was able to wrap his hand around Tobirama’s length, teasing him with light strokes and gentle swipes of his thumb across the tip. His partner writhed under the touch and swore at him, demanding more, but Madara ignored him. A rush of power had already gone to his head as he watched Tobirama falling apart under his touch so easily and there was no way he would be ending this so quickly. If he was allowed to play then he was going to _play_.

It was actually quite a compliment to his own skills in bed, at least in Madara’s opinion, that he was able to reach over to the night stand and rummage around for a half forgotten bottle of lube without Tobirama even seeming to notice. Tobirama seemed entirely caught up with the attention he was receiving, both hands twisting in the fur blanket while his hips worked to try and press himself deeper in to the fist stroking him. He actually growled when Madara took his hand away, then quieted again immediately when he saw the lube.

Rather than make any snarky comments he only reached up for a pillow to tuck underneath his hips and spread his legs a little wider for Madara to settle the rest of his body in between them. With the skirt flipped up the way it was and nothing else of his already skimpy clothing having been removed, Tobirama looked like a wet dream, especially with the way his chest was heaving as he struggled for breath and a red flush of pleasure had stained his cheeks as well as the tiny bit of chest visible over the collar of his tiny shirt. If he had been delicious before then there were simply no words for him now. Madara wasn’t certain he was going to recover from this but it was a doom he would march to willingly any day of any week.

Of course, eagerness did not mean that he had to rush things. Half the fun of sex was in enjoying his partner’s reactions and he was very interested to know how Tobirama would react to further teasing. Could he get the man to beg? Just the thought of sweet words of pleading falling from between those lips had his cock twitching where it was still confined in his clothes.

As it turned out, Tobirama had no time for teasing today. Rather than beg prettily, he gave Madara perhaps ten seconds of circling his hole with light stokes before he lifted his head to glare tightly and demand in a hoarse voice that Madara get on with it before he took things in to his own hands. While that would definitely have been a sight that he would have liked to see, Madara forced the image to the back of his mind and gave what had been asked of him before he could ruin this one chance.

The first finger slid in easily enough, followed by a second, and by the time he had three fingers scissoring inside the man Tobirama was writhing and bucking as though he could hardly contain his own reactions. Watching him was breathtaking; enough so that Madara very nearly forgot his own pleasure and almost brought Tobirama over the edge with nothing but his fingers.

When Tobirama began to frantically gesture towards the clothes he was still wearing, Madara felt a wave of heat go through him for how badly the other wanted him. He was gentle as he pulled his fingers away but wasted no time in reaching down to tear open his trousers and push them down almost violently. The material nearly ripped but he couldn’t have cared less. All that mattered right then was getting naked and getting naked fast. Tobirama, on the other hand, was perfect the way he was in his little outfit.

Grabbing the lube and spreading a bit extra on himself – hips stuttering at the first touch since all this excitement started – Madara then tossed it carelessly off the bed and shuffled his knees forward so he could line himself up with the stretched hole eagerly awaiting him. Tobirama’s head tossed back as he pressed in, exposing the graceful line of his neck and freely displaying the red marks Madara had left there. The sight of him gave Madara a possessive little thrill, knowing that it was _him_ who had left his mark behind, _him_ that was giving Tobirama pleasure, _him_ that had Tobirama so open and comfortable enough to let go the way he was doing. Clenching his teeth against the sheer need running rampant in his veins, Madara worked himself slowly inside the willing body underneath him.

Once he was fully seated he didn’t even pause for a second. He pulled his hips back before slamming them forward again, enjoying the startled cry Tobirama gave and the way his entire body clenched. Then Madara began to fuck in earnest, holding Tobirama’s bucking hips in place with both hands while snapping his own again and again until he almost felt his eyes begin to cross with the pleasure.

If he were in his right mind he might have made some kind of snarky comment about how tight Tobirama’s ass was but instead that same tightness was too distracting for him to even think of forming words. Ultimately it was his undoing.

Both of them were letting out small frantic noises as he straightened himself to stand up on his knees and used the leverage of the position to pound in to Tobirama as hard as he dared, aiming for that sweet spot and making both of them gasp when he finally found it. His new vantage point had him holding Tobirama’s thighs, long legs tossed over his shoulders, and almost pulling himself in with each thrust.

Spread out underneath him, he noticed Tobirama was starting to look a little desperate.

“Touch yourself,” he growled. “Make yourself come for me. Let me see you dirty that pretty skirt of yours.”

He’d never seen a hand move so fast, which was saying something considering Tobirama was rather well known for his speed. But nothing he had seen before compared to the flash of white he witnessed as Tobirama reached for his own cock where it was bouncing just beneath red and white pleats with every thrust. A moan escaped him as he fisted himself tightly and tried to stroke in time with the rocking of their bodies.

Almost immediately his pale thighs began to quake and Madara knew that it wouldn’t be long before both of them came crashing down. He concentrated on maintaining the pace and keeping the right angle, wanting more than anything to fuck Tobirama straight through his orgasm. Of all the fantasies he’d ever had, his favorite was the idea of watching Tobirama paint himself with cum and fucking in to his pliant body until he’d completely spent himself.

Getting to see that fantasy become a reality was almost more than Madara’s sanity could take. He watched Tobirama’s breathing rush faster and faster until he was gasping for every breath, one hand holding his tiny skirt up out of the way while the other worked frantically over his cock. When Tobirama came his back bowed and his hole clenched almost impossibly tight. His hand stilled and his jaw clenched with a feral sound as he spilled himself over his own fingers, painting his abdomen in to the most obscene picture of edible perfection Madara had ever seen.

Only a moment later Madara was coming as well, emptying himself in to Tobirama while his entire body shook under the pressure of such an intense orgasm. He barely noticed a garbled collection of vowels clawing their way up his throat, too focused on the way Tobirama twitched and shuddered with every movement, obviously overwhelmed with sensation.

When if felt as though he had nothing left to give, Madara collapsed forward and only barely managed to catch himself on his hands so as not to crush Tobirama. It took him several heartbeats to find the strength to open his eyes and when he did he was rendered breathless by the image he found.

Arms lifted to curl around his head, Tobirama was stretched out in such a way to perfectly show off not only his body and the outfit he had put on just for Madara but also the amazingly debauched after effects of their activities. His hair was mussed and his stomach was dripping with his own cum, some having even landed on the crop top. Madara was momentarily distracted by the urge to lick him clean. Then he shook his head and leaned down to take that smirking mouth in a kiss much softer than the one they had started off with.

Part of him hoped the kiss conveyed all the emotions he was keeping hidden inside. Another part of him hoped those emotions stayed hidden.

“I certainly wasn’t expecting that when I came home,” he murmured lowly.

Tobirama quirked an eyebrow and drawled, “Surprise.”

“Oh are we right back to being a priss then? Because I’m very tired and if you’re not going to be nice to me after _that_ then I might just fall asleep on top of you.” Madara glared mockingly, unable to hide the fact that he was still grinning dopily. He was also unable to hide the thrill which ran through him when Tobirama smiled back and the expression was edged with something positively wicked.

“Too tired for another round?”

“Well, not if it’s on offer.” He couldn’t resist one more soft kiss. “But you get to be on top this time. I did all the work the first time so now it’s your turn.”

Before answering him Tobirama rolled them both over with no warning, somehow managing not to separate them. Madara found himself on his back with Tobirama across his hips, softened cock still trapped within the tight hot body above him. All in all, he’d been in worse positions in his life. He was definitely a fan of the way Tobirama’s smile turned suddenly gentle while he lifted one hand to stroke down the line of Madara’s jaw.

“You like the outfit, I see,” he observed.

“I do.”

“Do you like anything else?” He tilted his head to one side like a curious bird and Madara felt the last bit of tension in his body slip away; he knew an offer when he heard one.

“Everything,” he said. “I like everything.”

“Well enough to keep it?”

Madara huffed and tugged on the edges of the other’s skirt. “You’ve already dressed yourself in my clan colors. Just you watch me try to keep them there. Don’t start what you can’t finish, as they say.”

Lifting his head up only to drop it back down in the other direction, Tobirama let his smile sit for a moment more before he snorted and tossed his hair. Then he deliberately ground his hips down and sent frissions of excitement sparking up both of their spines. Apparently that was all the time he was willing to spare for mushy emotional things, even if they’d really only beaten around the bush without speaking about anything straight out.

Which, if he was being honest, was usually the way Madara preferred things anyway. Confident now that they both wanted the same things, he wasn’t upset in the least when all softness fell away in favor of raising the heat back up immediately. He pulled Tobirama down for a kiss and within moments they were clawing at each other as frantically as they had before.

As he finally – _finally_ – got around to removing some of Tobirama’s clothing, Madara decided that the stupid tournament today had at least brought him one good thing. He would have to send Hashirama a gift basket or something.

Without telling him why of course. He wanted to live to enjoy his prize, after all.


End file.
